


every superhero need his theme music

by voodoochild



Category: The Avengers (2012), World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Punk and Cena, done superhero-style. (Fusion with The Avengers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	every superhero need his theme music

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ashley, who wanted the Superhero Boyfriends as actual superheroes. Fingers crossed, I think this is the prologue to a longer story. 
> 
> Title from Kanye West's "Power". I don't own that, either of these fine-ass gentlemen, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

John lives in the limelight. 

He has no code name, no divide between his “superhero” persona and his “civilian” persona. His family is just as well-known; joking dad, sweet mother, an older backslapping brother, three fresh-faced younger brothers. With John, what you see is what you get - all-American golden boy, military darling, rescuer of kittens and babies and the guy who will smile his megawatt smile while helping little old ladies across the street. The media loves him, the public adores him, even the other superheroes have to admit he’s a great guy to have on your side. They call him “the human Superman” and “Captain America’s kid brother”, his strength and healing factor making for great publicity.

Little kids run around chanting his creed - “hustle, loyalty, respect!” - and trying to lift imaginary foes over their shoulders. John is always conscientious to tell them that they should be careful when imitating him, wait until they can tell the good guys from the bad, and that he would never use his powers against his friends. And he does have some high-profile friends. He once challenged Steve Rogers to a boxing match, spent a weekend helping the Xavier Institute to reprogram their Danger Room, took Wonder Woman to the Military Ball at the last presidential inauguration (they’re “just friends”, John insists).

****

Punk lives in the shadows.

No one knows his name, no one knows his origins, and no one cares. He’s an enigma, running around in a hoodie, no different than any of the people he protects. Rarely, you might see him out of the hoodie, and you can see the tattoos that spiral across his skin. He won’t tell you what they mean or where he had them done, but everyone knows they shield him. The guy’s invulnerable, but that isn’t the extent - the very few who have seen more of him than the shadows say that he can breathe fire and make his enemies burn from the inside out. He never speaks, not even to the people he saves, and he never gives interviews.

The media hate him - they paint him as a villain, as an usurper among the obvious heroes of America. They think it’s only a matter of time before he joins forces with Doctor Doom or Lex Luthor, and no matter the good he does, he’ll never be one of their shining lights. He doesn’t hang with the Avengers, thinks the X-Men are a bunch of teenagers, and the Justice League are a bunch of hypocrites. But walk among the edges of society, the fringes, the poor and illegal and forgotten of America, and that’s where you’ll find Punk. It’s Punk who they call out to in times of danger. They know that if he’s able, he’ll answer, and he never walks away from a fight. 

****

They never thought they’d team up. 

Neither of them work the same way; John works best as a leader of a group, Punk’s a loner and always will be. John is a Boston boy, watches the Celtics and wipes the docks of South Seaport with alien scum. Punk stalks the streets of Chicago, walks through the sparks of the El train and the graffiti-covered concrete. But they circle around each other, and there’s a lot they have in common. John openly admires Punk’s focus, the ferocity he displays when he fights. Punk has been known to admit that John’s resilience is impressive, the way he’ll get beat down again and again, and keep coming back. 

No, they were never supposed to be on the same team, but the Chitauri invasion - the Avengers’ finest hour - made allies out of stranger men than John and Punk, and they find themselves as the only line of defense at the Williamsburg Bridge. Aliens appearing by the thousands, explosions and fire, weird-ass laser bursts, giant fucking sky-bikes.

Everyone’s heard the Captain up in Manhattan - bottleneck them, keep them on the island, don’t let a single one out. John’s worried about the civilians, but Punk rolls his eyes. 

“People are stronger than you think, Johnnyboy. Let ‘em help.”

“How?” John asks, herding a group of tourists from Amsterdam toward Essex station. “Those things are - more than maybe anyone can handle.”

Punk’s eyes glow red, snake-trails of it down his neck and across his chest. 

“We’re not just anyone.”


End file.
